


Warmth

by Monochrome_Eyes



Series: Writings [3]
Category: Amulet (Graphic Novels)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Internal and external bleeding, It's a healthy dose of angst, Male-Female Friendship, Or where Trellis gets injured and Emily keeps him company, Platonic stuff is my blood packet after a blood loss, and friendship so fret not children, concussion, injuries, not graphic dont worry, really - Freeform, somewhat fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 18:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12687783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monochrome_Eyes/pseuds/Monochrome_Eyes
Summary: Trellis saves Emily and gets injured in the process. When he feels cold, she tries to be a source of warmth.It feels nice.





	Warmth

Emily wasn't prepared. Trellis is reliable, yes, and she is assured (and he had made it clear) that he can take care of himself. Ever since he discovered to utilize his stone's power to create such an impenetrable shield, she simply assumes that they wouldn't have to worry him being critically injured in the future, unless he gets caught off guard, but she knows him well that this very rarely happens.

 

So when a colossal part of a cliffside collapsed, she surely wasn't expecting it. Should she and Trellis get caught in the landslide even if he used his barrier, they'd end up buried underneath tons of dirt, where they'll be trapped and suffocate. As the most sensible thing to do, they ran.

 

The landfall was a very hard thing to overrun, thus just as she thought the large part of a cliff is going to be her makeshift grave, Emily feels a sharp and powerful shove that knocks her off her feet and forward. Her hands tried to catch the fall and she ended up scratching them and her knees, the friction and rocks tearing through the fabric and flesh was painful, but she was far too concerned for the other one who might've—

 

"Trellis!" She calls in panic, running over his sprawled figure. The landfall was done and has decided to stop killing people for today and the dust from the impact made it very hard to see. He isn't crushed, no, but he is injured and a rock is pinning down on his leg and there is a spot of red on his abdomen growing larger and larger by the second and he groans. Emily doesn't know whether to be relieved because he is alive or horrified because now that she's at his side, she can see _blood trickling heavily from his hairline_.

 

She yells for a medic, throat irritated and eyes watering from the dust (definitely from the dust) and Trellis is probably experiencing worse, thus she removes her cloak and pushes down on the wound on his abdomen to staunch the blood flow and he cries out in pain, too delirious to think, to act. He is going to die of blood loss at this rate, and from what Emily can deduce, a concussion. This is bad.

 

Help has arrived and immediately shoved her hands away from the abdomen. This sudden action shocks her and she was about to retaliate until the medic explains that the bleeding might be internal, or perhaps fractured ribs and she would've aggreviated his injuries pushing down like that. Emily stares, horror settling in. In her panic she pushed down — _too hard_ — and it could, might kill him. He might _die_ because of her careless mistake regardless of intentions and he just saved her and she is about to kill him _again_.

 

They extracted Trellis from the rock that has pinned him down, now blacked out from the agony. Emily can feel herself move but she is too detached to notice. As she is standing up, the warm blood on her cloak and hands felt surreal (she could've killed him she could've killed him she could've killed him _she could've killed him she could've killed him she could've killed_ **SHE COULD'VE KILLED HIM SHE COULD'VE KILLED HIM** _**SHE KILLED HIM**_ ), as well as Vigo's hand on her shoulder lead her away and into the airship to recover, tending to her scratches that it stings but it felt _nothing_ to regret and guilt that hangs over hear heavily.

 

  
On the day he woke up, she darted towards the infirmary he's recovering in as soon as she was informed, which is around several hours later. Too pressed on seeing him she didn't bother to knock, and bursted into the room. He may have been up for several hours after a nasty concussion and a close brush with death, but Trellis doesn't seem to find this as an excuse to cease his _research_ even for a bit. So they stare, Trellis, unhealthily pale, trembling, dazed and peeking up from a book he's been reading (what. Why is it so thick. Is that an encyclopedia?? She's seen him read books as thick as that to finish it in a day and a half and she can see he is already ¼ through. _What_.) and her, red-faced from running over to the infirmary, startling each other.

 

 _Of course_ , Trellis asks if she is alright (as he always does), looking particularly worried at the bandages on her hands. She wants to snort, since he looks worse, with a blood packet hooked up unto his arm as his thin thread of life, a cast on his foot, a thick bandage around his head and probably underneath his shirt too. But instead of snarking as she usually does, she confirms she is and asks him the same question. He answers he is fine as well, and she is unsurprised, because he obviously isn't, at least physically-speaking.

 

Feeling willing and inclined to do so, she kept him company for days until he recovers fully, retrieving books he requested, listening to him as he rants off things he learned, played chess (albeit reluctantly), played othello (after her several losses at chess, a heated debate, and several minutes of silent treatment before conceding. He lost), and watching over him as he sleeps. She may do many of these activities, but it was still obvious he is trying to be as little of an inconvenience as possible, apologizing when he got too worked up explaining, rarely but politely requesting her for books, complying to play othello, and it frustrates her because it isn't. In fact, she has enjoyed them (she has admitted in the past that some of his hobbies are... Boring), and it's nice to get a break from Guardian duties and all. (Besides, no one had two lives yet Trellis kept saving her anyway. This is the best she could pay him back but it still felt so _little_ , _insignificant_.)

 

Concerningly, most of the time Trellis looked dazed and tired, mostly running on what little energy he had and is easily exhausted, thus most days are spent asleep. She still stays with him during those times, observing his face that unusually relaxed for several hours per day. He looks better like that.

 

Getting somebody of a similar blood type as him was very rare and hard to find, thus the periods in between blood transfusions were long. They try to fill up the time on those absences, usually helping him with research. Today is one of those days.

 

It was, she can't belive this, peaceful. Peacefully monotone that she was foreign to it. During the war was always too hectic, worrying about this and that and trying not to get killed in general. Now the pressure has ceased, being relaxed almost felt too good and like a trap. They do anyway.

 

She rests her head on her arms, using Trellis's one side of the bed as a pillow. It was peaceful, quiet, and warm. The infirmary was a good place for healing, the walls are soft white that isn't painful to the eyes at all. Trellis is breathing evenly and it's a comfortingly familiar thing to hear, and she was about to drift into sleep...

 

When she felt a rather intense vibration, so she snaps awake and looks at him.

 

He gives her an apologetic expression, "I'm sorry about that, I must've kept you from resting. It's been quite some time since the last blood transfusion..."

 

"Are you cold?" She asks, frowning. He gives an involuntary shudder, returning his eyes to the text.

 

"I am," Trellis's voice was wavery but the tone was the same as usual, "Can't help it, I did lose a lot of blood after all."

 

He shudders involuntarily again, becoming more frequent by the second. Emily frowns more deeply as she observes Trellis, who seemed a bit dazed to be aware, much less notice her scrutinizing him. His body is shaking so much to produce heat his body needed crucially, nested beneath the thick duvet, fingers trembling just to keep the thick book upright, which was starting to fall over. He has been like that for the past few days and becoming worse as time flew by. Yet so, Trellis's gaze remains stubbornly focused, struggling through the effects of blood loss as much as he can just research as not to waste his day resting he very much needed.

 

Emily wonders if she should try to persuade him to (it often works).

 

When his shaking became worse, she immediately stood up, and started to search the room.

 

"What is it?" He asks, setting down the book in his puzzlement as she walks around, looking inside cabinets even under his bed. She doesn't answer, preoccupied in her task she is trying to achieve.

 

Instead, her face scrunched up in disappointment, looking at Trellis with such a concerned expression he is starting to get concerned as well. She gives spends a few moments in deliberation, before unbuttoning her cloak she always wore and laying it on his shoulders.

 

"Um, what are you—", he starts, caught off guard but when the cloth settles, his eyes widened in realization and relief,"— oh."

 

She nods.

 

"I... Well," he trails off, observing the warm cloak that is _absolutely_ of such _comfort_ from the torturous cold, "I understand why you wear this all the time now. Thank you."

 

Emily shrugs, "It's the least I could do."

 

Least indeed. He once again saved her life, easing up his recovery is something she could do.

 

After shooting her a genuinely thankful look, Trellis once again returns to his reading, but this time, less frigid, and more relaxed as she usually sees him when does what he likes.

 

 

 

 

* * *

  
Epilogue:

  
"I think this is enough research," he says simply, setting the book on top of the several others he had read on the desk to his right. Emily raised a brow.

 

"Did you say, 'enough research'?" She asks in mock incredulousness. "I'd never imagined you'd say that one day."

 

He gives a huff, resting his head on the pillow. "I wanted to rest a bit, that's all."

 

"That too."

 

Trellis gives her a look but it was good-natured. She can't help but smile a bit at that. Had that look been given to a stranger, they would've assumed it was a rude look, but they know each other. Well enough, that even slight changes in expressions is a message in itself. A lot can be put in a simple action, a few words, and to others might be hard to understand, but it was like that among good friends.

 

"Thank you," he suddenly blurts out and this surprises her. What in the world is he thanking her for?

 

Her expression must have said something, so he explained, "I just want to thank you... For spending time with me. Your visits are the highlight of my day, you know. I'm... I'm really fond of them." He admits softly.

 

She spends a few moments in silence before she quietly admits, "Me too."

 

Trellis looks at her, surprised at the mutual reaction.

 

"It's peaceful... A bit boring," and she hears a huff again to her amusement. "But it was enjoyable in a way I can't explain. I don't mind your company, and I like it a lot when you rant what you know." It wasn't like a professor's lecture, boring and drawling. Whenever Trellis speaks about sonething he knows, his voice seems to lit up a hidden passion you don't usually hear when you talk to him, sincerity and curiosity unto every word. And he doesn't talk condescendingly like some teachers either, instead opting to patiently explain it as clearly as he can until she understood it.

 

This shocks him even more. "Did you — you actually enjoy when I talk too much??"

 

Emily just stares at him blankly. "Trellis your longest rant lasts at least 20 seconds." He had stopped abruptly during that time, puzzling her and had never bothered to explain.

 

He is a bit lost at that, then he returns to resting his head on the pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling. "That's the longest I've ever been allowed to talk." He admits offhandedly it unnerves her a bit.

 

She can see a hidden history behind that and it made her frown. "Well?"

 

"Well what?"

 

"Aren't you going to talk?"

 

"About what?" He looks at her. That's Trellis saving up words.

 

"About anything," she rests her chin on the edge of the bed, preparing for a long discussion. "Because it seems to me you haven't really had that much of oppurtunities. And don't worry, it's far from boring."

 

He spends some time contemplating this, before — "Are you sure?"

 

"Let's hear it," she says encouragingly, and he speaks.

**Author's Note:**

> Headcanon: Trellis is a very passionate infodumpeeeeeerr. Emily doesn't mind and likes it a lot because she learns so much. 
> 
> Let's say Elven blood is different than human blood ok.
> 
> Also back then Trellis was a well-known smart aleck even to Luger (much to his frustration) until Virgil manage to knock it out of him by saying 'I never mocked you when I taught you how to hold a spoon. Why would you mock others for learning new things you have already learned?' And he hasn't been the same since. Although he doesn't remember it, the lesson was deep in his heart.
> 
> Yea that's right I'm projecting to my fave.
> 
>  
> 
> Unedited and purely fueled by sleep deprivation so apologies for shit writing and the jarring shifts in atmosphere. Figured you liked something long after promising empty promises.
> 
>  
> 
> Let us all ignore the not-plausible health facts.


End file.
